


going under

by Fourier



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Cock Piercing, Daddy Kink, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-22
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-11 00:38:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8946028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fourier/pseuds/Fourier
Summary: They don’t do it every time; only when Vax wants it, or needs it, or once in a long while when Gilmore, the only time Vax ever sees him embarrassed, asks if he’d like to play that game of theirs.





	

They talk about it over tea the next morning—which is exactly the _last place_ Vax would like to talk about it, honestly, sober and fully conscious—and Gilmore has a damned smile on his face the entire time. 

“If that sort of thing interests you, Vax’ildan, I would be _more_ than happy to engage in it with you,” he says, and brings the cups to his lips. Vax watches his hands, and the rings on it, and the steam that lifts off the cup, with intense focus.

“I haven’t… thought about it much before,” Vax says slowly. He doesn’t quite meet Gilmore’s eyes, though he does keep glancing back just to scan his face. “With anyone else, I mean. I don’t- I don’t think I’d be comfortable. If it weren’t…. you.”

Gilmore tilts his head back, widens his eyes. Vax searches to read his expression—surprise? Confusion?

No; admiration, maybe.

“But with me….” Gilmore says slowly. He reaches one of his hands towards Vax; warm and large over Vax’s own lithe fingers, and even through everything they’d done the night before, even though Vax can still feel the impressions of Gilmore’s teeth on his collarbone, the soreness of his hips from Gilmore’s grip, even though all of that, this still feels like the most intimate they’ve been.

“With you, I _really_ want to, Gil,” Vax admits, a little embarrassed at the desperation that leaks into his voice—at least until Gilmore’s smile beams white and brilliant and he catches Vax’s mouth in a hungry kiss.

-

They don’t do it every time; only when Vax wants it, or needs it, or once in a long while when Gilmore, the only time Vax ever sees him embarrassed, asks if he’d like to play that game of theirs. 

They settle into an easy rhythm, a space they can both go where it’s not complicated in the least—where it’s just the two of them, and the world they inhabit, and the things they call each other in the dark.

-

Vax shows up at Gilmore’s a half hour past when he’d promised to; he’d gotten caught up in a pointless debate with Scanlan and lost track of time, left much later than he’d meant to.

He unlocks the door and steps inside soundlessly, gently shedding layers as he goes; shoes, jacket, shirt. He likes leaving his clothes along Gilmore’s living room, a trail to the bed; it’s for the fun of it afterwards, watching Gilmore wave his hand and fold the clothes on the edge of the couch without touching them.

When he gets to the bedroom the door is barely ajar; he nudges it with one hand.  
Gilmore is on the bed, still clothed, wrapped in a robe, a book propped open in one hand. He looks up over the pages with a flat expression—except the eyes, he can’t hide those. 

“You’re late,” he says, in _that_ voice, and Vax feels tension already draining from his shoulders in a line of fire down to his toes. 

“Sorry, Daddy,” he breathes, and Gilmore’s mouth twitches into half a smile. 

Vax stays frozen, head already heavy, as Gilmore slips out of bed. Vax can see now he’s not wearing much under the robe; soft cotton boxers and nothing else, chest exposed, thick and smooth legs drawing him closer and closer and closer to Vax.

He reaches behind Vax and nudges the door closed; Vax almost jumps at the click of the lock. 

“Do you want to make it up to me, darling boy?” Gilmore asks, voice a low growl in his chest, and Vax almost gasps as he nods. “Use your words.”

It feels like pulling something up from deep in his chest, when he speaks, but he tries, anyway, whispers, “Yes, Daddy,” and is rewarded by Gilmore’s hand on his cheek.

“Good boy,” he says, and Vax can feel the blood rushing from his head to his cock. 

Gilmore’s hand reaches up to guide Vax’s head down, and Vax goes more than willingly; kneels in front of Gilmore and slides his hands inside the robe to push it to either side of Gilmore’s hips. He leans forward to press his mouth against the fabric of Gilmore’s boxers; the outline of his cock is thoroughly visible, including the heavy golden ring looped through the tip. 

“Go on,” Gilmore encourages, a soft tug of Vax’s hair, and it’s all Vax needs to pull Gilmore’s boxers down with shaking fingers and take his cock into his mouth with a soft moan.

Gilmore groans above him as Vax works his tongue over Gilmore’s length, up the soft skin and over the heavy gold piercing—and all Vax can think, all he can ever think when he sees that damned ring, is what it _feels_ like inside him, the hard curves of it buried deep in his body, the way it sits now heavy on his tongue. 

“You’re such a good boy,” Gilmore says, voice shaking now, thighs clenching beneath Vax’s hands. “Taking care of Daddy.”

Vax whines, sudden, involuntary. It hits him somewhere deep in his stomach when _Gilmore_ says it, when he hears it from somewhere else, and he rocks his hips forward as Gilmore’s hand tightens around his hair. 

“Are you alright, darling boy?” Gilmore asks, and Vax knows suddenly what he means, feels a rush of heat from it—closes his eyes and squeezes Gilmore’s thighs as an affirmation.

Gilmore’s hand guides his head slowly at first, back and forth, then faster, deeper, until Vax is holding off gagging sounds, until his eyes water and his hands clench so tight his knuckles whiten—until Gilmore draws his head forward and buries his cock deep in Vax’s throat and shudders his way through an orgasm, Vax’s throat working around him even while Vax is struggling to breathe.

When he pulls out Vax coughs, takes a shuddering breath as Gilmore wipes at the tears on his cheeks. 

He looks up at Gilmore when he’s caught his breath, through wet lashes, and rasps, “Thank you, Daddy.”

It delights him, sometimes, to see the effect _he_ has on _Gilmore_ instead of the other way around—and he sees it full-force now, in the way Gilmore shudders and nearly tips his head back, in the way his hands clench like they ache. 

“Good boy,” Gilmore repeats. “Wonderful, _wonderful_ boy,” and Vax’s breathing hitches again despite having plenty of air.

Gilmore puts a hand on his chin and gently tugs. “On your feet, now,” he says, and Vax obeys, pushing himself up and ignoring the aching of his knees. Gilmore’s other hand slips between Vax’s legs, to where he’s almost painfully hard, and puts just the barest hint of pressure there. 

“You know we’re just getting started, don’t you?” Gilmore murmurs into Vax’s ear, and Vax moans his approval.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me @ brotherkashaw on tumblr


End file.
